Last Resort (12 page)

Spotting her husband waiting for her in the crowd, she lifted an arm to wave, at the same instant as a tall, distinguished-looking man in his early forties dressed in casual clothes and carrying a large sports bag moved on past her, responding to an unobtrusive signal from a desk clerk in one of the car-hire booths.

From the corner of her eye Esther Delaney watched the man, waited for him to get information from the desk clerk before leaving the airport, then, going to her husband, she raised herself up on tiptoe to kiss him and straighten up his cravat, whispering,

"All clear."

As they walked to where Wally Delaney had left his car, right outside the terminal building, the casually

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dressed man was sliding into the back of a limousine. Neither of the Delaneys looked in his direction; nor did they acknowledge the chauffeur as he settled his cap more neatly on his head and got into the driver's seat.

"Everything in order?"

Wally asked, as he settled in comfortably behind the wheel of his Mercedes and steered it out through the car-hire parking lot towards the airport exit.

"Absolutely/ Esther confirmed.

"Just a teensy hiccup when we got to Zurich, but it's all sorted out now."

Her eyes were burning brightly with the memory of her trip.

"They were all there/ she told him.

Wally made a sound in the back of his throat as his upper lip twitched his thick, ginger moustache. Then, referring to the man who had got into the limousine, he said,

"How long is he staying?"

"He didn't say, but he wants you to call him tonight. Did you give the chauffeur a mobile phone?"

Wally gave an affirmative grunt; then, propping his cigar in his mouth, he leaned forward to press in the lighter.

They travelled in silence for a while, until Esther lifted her little white leather vanity case on to her lap. Think we should stop off at a bank, dear/

she said.

As Wally glanced over at her she opened the case to reveal a wad of 500-franc notes as thick as the AlpesMaritimes telephone directory. Wally's pale eyes were gleaming as he turned them back to the road.

With a smile of satisfaction, Esther leaned her head back against the head rest and allowed her mind to drift for a while. She hadn't been as happy as this for a long time - not since their son, Billy, had died ten years ago, just before his twenty-third birthday. It was a subject she rarely discussed, but the new friends she had made since leaving the Far East and coming to the Cote d'Azur all knew that her seemingly boundless energy, coupled with her alarming intake of wine and the heartfelt

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pleasure she received from the young when they showed up at one of her soirees, was all a result of her childless state. What no one seemed able to get to the bottom of, though, was what she did when she was jetting around the world in search of antiques for Wally's little shop, Bijou, in Le Cannet, for she rarely, if ever, came back with anything.

The way the Delaneys had made their fortune was one of the best-kept secrets on the Riviera, for no one believed - at least, it was more interesting not to believe

- that Wally's income from the shop, given his astonishing ignorance when it came to antiques, could possibly have provided them with the kind of life style they enjoyed. Esther, while floating around her cocktail parries in outrageously glamorous attire, was extremely fond of telling stories about when they had lived in Singapore, or Malaysia, or Hong Kong - which they evidently had, for she knew far too much about the places for it not to be true - but exactly what line they had been in before this antique racket no one had ever been able to find out. The more generous of their acquaintances were of the opinion that Wally had been an army man, if for no other reason than he looked the part - though no one could give a satisfactory explanation as to why he wouldn't admit to it. The less generous could, however, for they had it on the highest authority - no names mentioned, of course - that Wally had indeed been an army man, but had been court-martialled for offences that ranged from some kind of fifth-columnist activities to being discovered exposing himself behind the women's barracks.

Esther, fortunately, was blissfully unaware of these damning rumours and rather enjoyed the air of mystery she so carefully cultivated, when the truth was that until five years ago Wally had been an executive for a washing-machine company. His incompetence had resulted in them being posted all over the world, until in

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the end he'd been pensioned off early, though with nothing like as golden a handshake as he had been expecting. So when they had been approached by their current employer, just after arriving on the Riviera, and been offered a situation that provided them with the means to live far more comfortably than they ever had before, they had grabbed it with both hands. Two years on, Wally had at last regained a sense of his own importance and Esther, when she travelled, managed to fulfil all her social-climbing ambitions as well as compensate for her frustrated motherly longings by mixing almost exclusively with the rich and famous. Not when in France, however, because in France, for reasons of security, her employer insisted she keep a much lower profile -

which on the whole she did, for she was every bit as discreet as her position required her to be, even though most who knew her would never have credited her with such powers of restraint.

Looking over at Wally, she blinked and smiled. With his red-veined nose, faded brown eyes and widely spaced teeth, he was most certainly not an attractive man. But Esther loved him, wouldn't know how to survive without him, in fact, not after all these years. And Wally's word was law in their house, always had been and always would be, which meant that between them Wally and their employer saw to it that Esther rarely had to take a decision for herself - a fact she was extremely glad of, even though, secretly, she rather admired the modern independent young women she came across nowadays. Though heaven forbid she would ever have to go out into the world and fight for herself the way they did. No, she was very happy with Wally, thank you very much.

Feeling her watching him, Wally reached across to the glove compartment and took out a neatly wrapped little package, which he dropped casually into her lap.

"Oh, gosh,"

she cried, her eyes lighting up as she read

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the name of an exclusive jeweller on the label.

"What is it this time? Oh my! Wally!"

she gasped when she saw the ruby-and-diamond pin that was going to look just perfect on the flouncy new cocktail dress with all those fringes and sequins she had bought herself in Zurich.

"It's lovely/ she told him, pulling down her sun visor to test the colour against her sallow complexion and giving a sigh of pure pleasure.

"Friends?"

he said gruffly.

For a moment she looked baffled; then, remembering, she laid a hand on his arm, saying,

"Of course we're friends, dear."

"Didn't mean it, you know that, don't you?"

he said, referring to how he had lost control just before she'd left and shaken her so hard it had made her cry. He'd done it because he'd caught her looking at photographs of their son, Billy.

"Of course, you didn't,"

she told him. Then, after a pause, she gave a little laugh and added,

"I'm such a maddening thing at times, I'm sure. I don't blame you at all."

He sucked several times on his cigar, puffing out dense clouds of smoke, as though to mask himself from the shame he always felt when she blamed herself for his intolerance of her grief.

"So,"

he said abruptly,

"he wants me to call him tonight?"

"Yes. I think he wants you to drive some friends of his to Barcelona at the weekend."

Wally nodded. After a moment he said,

"We had a delivery yesterday."

Esther turned to look at him and, reading his raised eyebrows, clasped her hands together in delight.

"How splendid!"

she cried.

"He will be pleased. He was afraid it wouldn't get here in time. Was everything in order? Photographs, stamps and all those little things I don't understand?"

"Shipshape,"

he responded, nodding for her to look out

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of the window.

As the chauffeur-driven limousine swept past them Esther turned casually in the opposite direction.

"My, it's a lovely day/ she murmured, gazing out at the sunny hillsides.

Wally's eyes tracked the limousine until it disappeared round a bend in the autoroute.

"By the way, got ourselves some new neighbours/ he said, deciding to put a bit of a sprint on himself.

"Really!"

Esther said.

"Who are they? Have you met them?"

Wally's eyes remained on the road ahead. Two girls/ he said.

"Sisters."

Then, after a pause:

"One of them's a journalist."

When Esther didn't speak, he turned to look at her and watched her eyes dilate as he grinned.

"You don't mean ... ?"

she said.

"Oh, Wally, you're not saying it's the girl who's come to take over The Coast?"

"Yes/ he nodded,

"I am saying."

"Oh my, oh my!"

Esther murmured, clapping a hand to her face.

"And right next door to us. What a perfectly dreadful coincidence."

The feverish excitement that was now burning in her eyes not only totally belied her words but was something Wally could easily have predicted.

"Have you told you-know-who?"

Esther asked, mouthing the last three words.

Wally shook his head.

"Not yet/ he answered.

Esther's smile widened.

"I say/ she whispered,

"do you think we might dare to invite her over? Just the once/ she added hastily.

"I'd simply love to meet her. Wouldn't you?"

Wally gave a non-committal shrug, even though it was precisely the response he had hoped for. Meeting and getting to know Penny Moon could put him and Esther right at the centre of things, a place he wouldn't mind being, providing it was clear, just in case things back-88

fired, that it was Esther who had put them there - not him.

"Bit risky, wouldn't you say?"

he commented, feeling that this mild little protest would go some way to keeping him on the right side of their employer, were he there to hear it, but at the same time would do nothing to dissuade his wife.

"No one need ever know,"

Esther said.

"I mean, after all, she is our neighbour, and how would it look if we didn't invite her over?"

"Actually, I think we're going to have to, old thing/ he answered.

"Gave me a gin and tonic the other night, so got to have her back, wouldn't you say?"

Tou've been over there?"

Esther cried.

"Had a bit of a problem with one of the outside lights/ he explained.

"Asked if I knew an electrician. Fixed it for her m'self, gave me a gin and tonic to say thanks."

"Oh, how perfectly splendid/ Esther trilled.

Though Wally's lips didn't move, inwardly he was smiling, for it was pleasing him to be able to offer her this other little jewel - an excuse, albeit tenuous, to meet Penny Moon, who, apart from everything else about her, was most certainly young enough to satisfy Esther's craving for youthful company.

"Could invite her over while I'm in Barcelona/ he suggested offhandedly.

Esther's eyes widened with surprise.

"But don't you want to be there too?"

she said.

He shrugged. Thought it would give you girls the chance for a bit of a chinwag/ he said, puffing out a few more clouds of smoke.

"Don't want old duffers like me in the way, what?"

What he meant, in fact, was that if they were going to invite Penny Moon, a journalist, into their home and their employer somehow got to find out about it, then if he, Wally, wasn't actually there no blame could be attached to him for doing something their employer would find very hard to forgive.

Tou're a wonderful man, Wally/ Esther smiled ingenuously, laying a hand on his arm.

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Yes, well, you just be careful what you tell her, old thing. She's a journalist, remember. Probably got a way of getting things out of people they'd rather not tell, what?"

"Oh, I shall be ever so discreet,"

Esther assured him.

Wally grunted and sucked noisily on the end of his cigar. During the half-hour he was over at Penny Moon's the other night he hadn't been able to resist dropping the odd hint or two that there were certain things he knew about that might just interest her too. Not that he'd had any intention of telling her, of course, but it was one of his particular pleasures in life, getting people going, stirring up the old curiosity then leaving them high and dry. She hadn't been very quick on the uptake, though; hadn't asked him any questions the way he expected a journalist to. But she had the kind of eyes that looked as though they were seeing right through a chap. He'd left just after noticing that, for the way she was looking at him had made him feel as though she knew a whole lot more about him than he'd ever want anyone to know.

"I do hope she'll come,"

Esther said, her eyes clouding with the prospect of rejection.

"She's quite famous, you know, in London. Billy told me."

Wally's eyes opened wide with alarm and, fumbling his cigar out of his mouth, he said,

"Who told you?"

Esther's eyes fell to her lap.

"I'm sorry,"

she whispered.

"I only went the once and it doesn't do any harm, really it doesn't. And it comforts me to be in contact with him."

Wally jammed the cigar back in his mouth and puffed so hard he could barely see the road ahead. This seance nonsense had to stop before it sent the old girl off her rocker.

"He sends his love/ Esther told him softly, then immediately started to slap him on the back as he began to choke and splutter while struggling to keep the car under control.

Her darling boy had told her a lot of other things too, 90

but she decided that now probably wasn't the time to tell Wally, not when they had just run into the back of the car